The Wall - Kallyn
::'Northern Pathway - ' ---- ::The northern artery of the independent freehold known as Crown's Refuge is known quite simply as the Northern Pathway; a road of smooth cobbles, wide enough for two carriages to pass with space to spare, that runs a perfect north-south route between Tempest Corona to the south, and the northern palisade wall. ::The cobbles of the pathway are not only smooth and level, but also seem to have been born from a variety of different types of stone, giving each one a distinct color as it rests next to all the others. Hues of brown, gold, bronze, slate, charcoal, and a myriad of other shades all conspire together to make such a route more affluent than it really needs to be. ::The sides of the pathway are protected by low-rising curbs that mark where the road ends and the rest of the large township begins. Beyond those curbs, homes and stores flank the pathway in carefully placed patterns of building and street. Small backroads and trails break away from the main artery to lead to the two northern quarters of Crown's Refuge that the Northern Pathway runs as a divide between. ::The towering fortification known as Tempest Spire looms overhead towards the south, giving you a constant bearing of where you are located within Crown's Refuge. The residential quarter known as Wolfsbane's Row rests towards the east, existing as a neat collection of residential houses and streets in which the Human Wildlanders live. Adjacent to this towards the west spans the quarter of the freehold known as Snowfall Basin; a cold-water lagoon around which the Syladris Wildlanders of Crown's Refuge live. ---- Sandrim pulls a sling out of his pocket, examining it before twirling it above his head. "Wonder if I'm even going to have a use for this," he muses. Kallyn follows along, fingering the hilt of the sword on her back and letting out a sigh, "Light... Is this really happening?" "Looks that way lass," Graham replies, pulling the katar out and testing its weight. He looks over to the other two as they approach the wall saying, "This seems balanced well enough for throwing. I'll hit the first one that gets past your magic with it then draw my dagger. Just hope that'll last." Sandrim frowns. "Light... I didn't want this," he says. "But, well, I guess it's happening. Good luck, you two." "It's strange. I keep expecting to wake up in my dungeon cell and find out this was all a dream," Kallyn remarks with a chuckle, unsheathing her shortsword. The other two there get a nod and a hopeless sort of smile, "And you as well." She looks down at her left hand and lets out a breath, speaking softly, "Please don't abandon me today..." Graham nods to each, trying for a smile but it's half-hearted at best, saying, "Light watch over us all on this dark night. We'll just have to do our best and hope." Nihanin manages to make it through the deadly flower field with foreign soldiers to this lonesome stretch of land! Sandrim lets out a small sigh, then tucks away his sling before drawing his recurve longbow. He, Kallyn and Graham are all on the northern wall, as well as, probably, a number of Blood Guard, looking down off the edge of the Bluff. "Runes or not... I think I trust my aim with the bow better," he muses. Atop Velvel, Blackfox comes riding through long enough to drop a pack off for Nihanin, "This should see you through. It is not much and far from Tyder's work, but it will help you survive. Nihanin just came in from the backside of nowhere, or rather, the room that was holding the militant unit coming in. He seems to be limbering up for something, bending over to touch his knees, before wandering off to the side to start emptying out a pack. Meian comes in from the south, bearing her sizable longbow slung over a shoulder, her expression grave and composed- and perhaps? Just a wee bit sleepy, still. :Flowing like greenish-black water, a skittering mass begins to gather to the northeast just out of longbow range and slowing to a stop. A booming warble like a two ton sparrow clearing its throat booms across the Refuge, and then a voice, the same one heard eighteen days ago, echoes through, shaking windowpanes with its smooth tenor. "Greetings, Crown's Refuge. Seventeen days have passed, and still, I have seen no Hand. I even gave you an extra day, lest you forgot me so soon. As I am merciful and wish only for peace, I will extend one more olive branch to you: surrender the Hand now, and I may even spare your Archmage. You have five minutes to comply, otherwise I will assume your consent towards a change in leadership and military of your fair city. I do hope you make the right choice. Peace be with you." The warbling sound is heard once more, then silence. "Can't put runes on the arrowheads?" Kallyn asks passively, shortsword in her right hand and flexing her left hand slowly. Her eyes widen at the sound of that booming voice, and she pales slightly, "Light save us all..." The grip is tightened on her sword, and she makes one last check of her armor to make sure it's fastened properly. Graham looks out onto the horde, face growing pale, and hefts the silver katar in his hand once more to test its weight. He looks to Kallyn and Sandrim saying, "I've a bottle of wine in a pouch for when this is over and I wouldn't want you to miss it." "Could," Sandrim says, lifting his bow slowly. A piece of paper is loosely attached to an arrow he draws. "Don't have enough time right now, though. Try not to read the letter I'll send them, and I'll enjoy that wine with you later." Taran makes his way up to the wall, unslinging his bow as he takes up a position. "Five minutes is just fine," he says quietly, taking an arrow that is bright with runes to magesight out of his quiver. "I really do not feel like talking. That is for Tshepsi. If she does not, I will not." He nocks the arrow, drawing it back. "Ready archers!" is the order that calls down the line. Nihanin moves up the wall after Taran, sliding a metal glove across the back of his forehead, "He sounds pretty serious, reckon we ought to give him a hand?" Then he claps politely. Hey, look, he's getting it started! "We'll a-all find the t-time to celebrate," states Meian firmly as she climbs up a ladder, finding herself a vantage point on the wall that hopefully combines something of both cover and visibility. An arrow's nocked on her own string, though it's rather more mundane of ammunition- no runes to speak of. "After the c-city is saved." :Down the wall, the blood guard raises crossbows and bows, knocking arrow and bolt, readying themselves - while the hunters and trackers that have chosen to stand with the refuge do the same. "Wine sounds lovely," Kallyn replies to Graham with a nod, "I won't be late for it." A quick, passing glance at Sandrim's bow and another nod. Nihanin gets a chuckle, the redhead patting the back of her right hand with her left, "Clever." And then her left hand returns to her side and she becomes serious once more. Watching and waiting. :The green mass seems to writhe, organizing itself into more soldierly rows. Popping like pearly sunbursts from tiny acarit bodies, the entire front line begins to form diaphonous shields. "So be it," comes the voice, somewhat quieter. "Be at peace with the fate you have chosen for yourselves." The miner closes his eyes for a moment, lips pulled back and teeth bared in a snarl, preparing himself for the coming violence. Graham shrugs the cloak back behind his right shoulder, clearing the arm for a throw. Sandrim nocks his arrow, aiming at the front line. "Hold it for now," he murmurs. "Too far to hit. Kallyn, can you burn that shield wall away?" "If she cannot, we can," says Taran grimly. "As soon as they enter range." He holds his own bow with a runed arrow nocked and drawn, waiting for just that. Nihanin's shoulders bob in an exaggerated shrug, an almost dandy(ish) movement. "I try. A little bit of lighthearted appreciation for what we're up against." He continues stretching, not having a shield to protect from arrows, or a bow to fire with. He's just got to wait it out. Oh, and hope he isn't hit with a stray shot. Meian also remains at full draw, the effort of doing so only slightly visible in her thin arms despite the size of the bow. She gazes down at the rows of acarits, swallowing and licking her lips nervously. "Light g-guard us..." :The walls of the refuge are high, torchlit and anchored by watchfires at either end. Here, on the northern wall, the bulk of the blood-guard has gathered - looking down into the valley below, down beyond the wall and farther, past the edge of the bluff on which the refuge sits, and across the rocky scree to the camp with its white tents and watchfires. :Below, in the valley, the chittering and alien speech of the acarit, spread like a dark stain winking with blue stars, rises to a crescendo as the beasts march, skittering forward over the ground. It's deceptive - each one is small (ish) - perhaps the size of two fists together, with legs giving them a width of only a yard, but they move like lightning, clamboring across rock and scree and heading for the foot of the wall. :While their numbers are vast, thankfully, they are not innumerable - just many. Yet, even so... among them winks to life marks of the Shadow. The front row has sprouted glittering half-spheres of geodesic energy, dozens more flickering, fading - several looking insubstantial, one even sprouting wings. But worst, worst of all, are those at the rear, where flickering eldritch flame, arcs of lightning, and blue-violet spheres of energy begin to swirl and form, their own glowing blue eyes fixed on the wall. "They can evoke," Kallyn muses, taking on a competitive grin. The smokey shift in her eyes kicks up rapidly as a crackling sound arises from her left hand, "Let's see how they can take it, then!" And then the crackling grows to a deafening roar, chaotic blue-white lightning bursting to the redhead's command. It arcs between her fingers and up her arm for a bit before she directs it at the frontlines of the approaching beasts. Sandrim frowns, aiming his bow down. "Well, we're in even more trouble," he states obviously, before letting the arrow fly at the front ranks, the rune-laden letter upon it fluttering a bit. Graham turns his left side to the horde, holding the katar at chest level ready to throw, but does nothing more than watch as the others attack. "Guard, ready shields!" shouts Taran, as he releases his arrow into flight at the oncoming prismatic magery. Nihanin's jaw clenches, eyes narrowing to slits at the sudden light down the line from him, an instinctive flinch that tightens into a pointed grimace as overwhelming numbers turn into overwhelming numbers with supernatural abilities aligned against them. "At least we're on a wall." Meian lifts her jaw slightly, exhales sharply and lets her arrow fly, immediately reaching back for another, even fear seeming to slip away into concentration as the battle truly begins. :All down the wall, the Blood guard draw and fire with... perhaps unsurpising order. Bows and crossbows emit a mighty twang as they fire, arcing down into the advancing ranks, while the more irregular help fires at will, a bit more ragged but with no less spirit. :All down the wall, arrows arc high in a black arc, turning, plunging down into the onrushing numbers. The irridescent shields, sadly, largely protect the front line, here - bloodguard arrows and hunter's arrows alike are turned, scattered. Yet some few strike home - Meian's arrow shatters a shield, while Kallyn's roar and crackle of lightning actually elicits angry hisses and blasts another's to fading bits of shadow. Taran's shot, too, strikes home - '' :''But most spectacular is a surprised squeak - and a muffled detonation in the midst of that number, several small bodies flung wide as a chance glance sets Sandrim's fluttering rune alight. :Yet, the horde advances still - the back row moving up, offering their own retaliation: fire, lightning, and balls of violet energy... As the lightning climbs up the wall towards Taran, Kallyn fires another round to counter it. The crackling sparks meet halfway between in a spectacular show of light and sound. The redhead proves to have greater control, however, and the sparks are diverted from their course and back down towards the acarits briefly, before dissipating entirely. She lets out the breath she was holding with a chuckle of disbelief. The miner ducks slightly as the magical energies lance at the wall. Graham's face is pale, eyes wide, as he waits for the monsters to close. "Light protect us," he utters breathlessly, forcing his gaze to focus on the enemy. He tightens his grip on the katar and says, "Just a little closer. Just a little more and I can throw." Sandrim draws another arrow, pulling back. "Good shot, Kallyn," he says, licking his lips. "I hope they don't come anywhere near myself." With a resounding -TWANG- the arrow shoots down into the approaching acarits, another rune glowing on its back. Taran nods thanks at Kallyn, and draws another runed arrow from his quiver. "Archers fire! Shieldmen at the ready! Melee fighters at the ready!" And then fires the bright arrow into the approaching shields. Griedan comes up to the place where the battle has begun, sprinting from the spire to see what has begun to transpire. He carries a massive warmace in his hands along with that silver banded mail over his form and a brilliant white aura about him. He charges up the stairs to the top of the wall, approaching Taran. Meian just keeps on shooting, her arms completing that smooth cycle of movement over and over- pull an arrow from the quiver, nock, draw, aim, release- as quickly as she can do it without sacrificing accuracy. No words or time for thought, even, judging by her expression. :The blood guard holds the line, grimly - firing into the onrushing numbers, the irregulars following suit. All down the line is the cry 'HOLD!' - and arrow after arrow is launched. :This fire is far more precise - between the guard and the irregulars, the shields around the advancing frontline are largely shattered, evaporating into so much eldritch shattered shards of will, gone in a blink as arrows strike home. yet another explosion *crumps* in the middle of the onrushing mess, sending spiders flying (though Sandrim's arrow does little). Yet Meian's and Taran's shots account for more, yet. :As the front line nears, the blood guard shift - half of their number readying whicker shield and blade and mace, looking to repel the oncoming, while the rest continue to fire. :Yet the spider-things are not without tactics of their own: A concerted blast, a series of fireballs meant to clear the wall rockets up as the front line advances, splashing against the battlements in roar of intense heat and flame. :For the vast majority, the concerted fire at the wall - designed to sweep it clean - is a mere inconvenience, the angle too great and, while heat and noise and fear... it does little damage. Kallyn and Graham, however, apparently, haven't yet learned when to duck. "Light!" Kallyn exclaims as she ducks the fireball aimed at her, popping back up with a delighted giggle. "MISSED ME, YOU OVERGROWN BUGS!" she calls back, taunting the acarits as she returns fire with another wave of crackling arcane electricity. Graham cloes his eyes for a moment as the flames rush in but opens them a moment. The attack spurs the miner into action, cheeks regaining some color as he hurls the silver weapon at the nearest acarit. "Shadow take you!" he cries out. Sandrim curses to himself as the fireballs fly over head. "Just two more left," he mutters, before letting the arrow fly, down into the mass of magical spiders. Taran doesn't stop his firing, doesn't pause. He draws the shining arrows and fires them, shouting out, "Kallyn, stop playing and go for numbers! Archers maintain fire!" Griedan watches the fireball come roaring in at Graham, scowling. The big mason extends a hand and concentrates, before the ball of flame can even really get close, however, it dissipates into nothingness from the force of the Light he channels. He approaches next to Taran. "Ifn th' wall is breached, dun hes'tate t' fall back er call fer us t' plug th' gaps. Yeh said what that there's 'nother 'sault gainst th' west wall?" Much like Taran, Meian keeps up firing and firing and firing. Unlike him, however, she squeaks softly at the fireballs and *almost* pauses, but is safely far away from any of them- and soon resumes the steady flow of arrows for the next volley. :Still the blood guard fire, their order firm - the more irregular assistants look rattled, shaken... but they do what they can. In both cases, the fireballs have claimed several; yet they are largely unscathed, brave in the face of the eldritch. :Lightning crackles out, Kallyn offering dark bolts of shadow to those below - but the acarit seems to bear up against it - and this time, this time, there is no death, just the smell of scorched fur and an angry shrieking, chittering, that spreads among the blue-eyed fiends topping the wall. :Graham's thrown knife strikes true, right between the eyes of one trying to skitter up to take off the man's face - while Sandrim's shot actually takes one... :...and another muffled *crump* is heard as acarit bodies again are flung high. But now, now the Acarits top the wall, a chittering mass of black fur and legs that crashes into the shields of the Blood Guard and rolls over into those who do their best to hold them back. :Green goop flies as the Acarits spit and scream, leaping onto guardsmen and irregular alike.. "Yes, sir!" Kallyn replies to Taran's order, ducking the incoming spit and then concentrating on her left hand. She takes a deep breath and then grunts as a ball of raging elemental magefire comes into being in her palm. She chucks it at the acarits that haven't reached the top yet, to spare her allies. The fact that it is no longer blue seems to be entirely lost on the girl as she backs up a little bit and holds her sword at the ready. "Take that ya monsters," Graham mutters as the katar strikes home. His eyes focus on the green spit in time for him to sidestep the attack. Growling, the miner launches one of his own, a knee at the nearest acarit while he grabs the iron dagger on his belt. Sandrim grimaces. "They're too close for my explosions," he says, putting away the bow and arrow before drawing the claymore from his back. He is up on the wall, with the others, fighting the massive army of evil acarits that have /juuuust/ started attacking. The young mage steps forward, swinging his claymore as hard as he can down at the closest acarit. Taran takes one last shot before shouting, "Archers fall back! Shieldmen and melee to the front!" And then he tucks his bow away, taking up his staff as he goes to join the retreating archers. It's clear enough why - he still can't move quickly, as he descends to the street. Griedan looks at the nearest acarit clearing the lip of the wall and hefts his warmace. He brings the massive weapon down towards the shadow spider in a wicked arc of argentite death. For her part, with her non-explosive arrows? Meian aims at the nearest acarit that's not directly engaged in melee and fires point-blank at it, before slinging the bow back over her shoulder safely stashed again. Now a hand drops to the sheath at her side, and the girl withdraws her wickedly glittering steel kukri, not heeding the retreat yet. :Around the warriors aiding them, the Blood Guard steps up into the gap, trying to hold the line against the advancing beasts... Shield and Sword and Mace are put to good use, as battle is joined. :The irregulars start down the ladders, moving out into the streets below, taking up firing positions there. :The battle that rages on the wall is ... inconclusive. While the Acarits seem to be gaining purchase by weight of numbers and their astounding agility and small size, the blood guard does not retreat. Swings go wide - Griedan nearly takes one, but it narrowly dodges. Knees and arrows, swords and maces are wielded with little offensive result... but so far, the Acarits fight for the wall, and have not yet passed it. :Of note is Kallyn's lone fireball - arcing out and down. Acarits dodge out of the way with remarkable speed... except for one poor little beast that just stares at it as it hits it dead center, vaporizing it in the dull roar of flame. :A gap in soldiers has been created a little down the wall after the wake of the mass fireball, and suddenly, dozens of acarits start hopping up and over the the wall in unison, one hop, then two, then three and over. But instead of engaging the main force, they begin skittering towards the southeast towards one of Crown's Refuge's many backroads, moving like lightning out of the thick of the battle while their brothers and sisters engage in melee. :The battle continues, those at the wall facing yet more green goop and pouncing spiders, shrieks and shouts.. Kallyn notices the acarits breaking through the gap and shouts, "THERE'S A BR-" she is cut off, ducking the green spit, and aiming a thrust at the nearest acarit in retaliation before trying again, "BREECH TO THE EAST!!!" Graham jukes to the right this time, allowing the acarit that's pouncing at him to barely miss, and slashes at his foe. He glances over at the flood pouring over the wall and shouts, "She's right Taran, they're getting through!" Sandrim curses, ducking to one side to evade the coming goo before swinging out at the closest acarit. "Can't get away from them! They're up to something!" Taran is making his way south. "Hold as long as you can! I've got to take care of the wounded anyway - I'll tell them at the Spire to stand ready!" Griedan steps aside with a nimble movement even in his hefty armor. His orders were more to observe and so he takes to retreat as well, turning from the wall to sprint down the stairs and towards the spire. "Got t' r'turn t' meh unit." he says. Meian glances down at the acarits making it into the city, and then the breach in the defenses, and scowls helplessly- but suddenly? There's green goop flying her way, which she barely dodges with preternatural speed- and then she's moving, trying hard to fight her way towards the gap so she can stave off the flow into the city. :The blood guard holds the line - they do not yet falter, but ground is not yet being gained. The irregulars draw, doing what they can.. :Still, so inconclusive - Kallyn takes another, the Blood Guard hold. Meian fights forward.. but is cut off by two that leap to bar her path; slowly, slowly, the group is forced, herded away from the gap. :Yet... no more come through, piling past - that one group bounds on, scattering into the streets, the irregulars doing what they can as they lose several of their number. :Griedan goes to leap down - but the ladder comes with him. Though he breaks away, the center of the wall now has no path of retreat as he moves to the south... :The wall is, in fact, being overrun. More breaches take place; the right side is collapsing as blood guard are felled and they are replaced by acarit. Now, most are over the wall - or on it, several streaming down to go after the irregulars below. Kallyn easily skirts the incoming goop, and then is barely missed by an acarit flying at her. She tries to take in her surroundings. She opens her mouth to yell, but her mind has gone entirely blank, the girl too caught in the heat of battle to be able to actually /think/. She continues fighting, taking a swing at the acarit that just spat at her. Another acarit lunges for the miner's leg, luckily after having reset his stance, but he pulls it out of the way with time to spare. Graham's face is completely red, flushed with the thrill and exhertion of combat, as he stabs downward at his attacker. And Sandrim... looks scared. Very scared, as he holds his claymore up and an acarit leaps straight for him. But then? There's a glint to his terrified eyes, and, though Sandrim hardly seems to move at all, the acarit misses, and goes flying past him instead. Coming back to his senses, the young mage turns quickly, slicing at the attacker with his claymore. As two acarits come at her from both directions? Meian ducks easily underneath the pounce of one- but it's a motion that carries her easily right into the gooey, gelatinous spit of the acarits. With a strangled cry of frustration, the girl finds herself glued down in motions- feet, legs, one arm encased. Thin limbs rattle in vain against their tenacious cage of solidified mucus, but finding that her confines are inescapably solid? Meian decides not to be. A closing of her eyes, a deep and steadying breath, and the little mage throws open the floodgates between herself and the Shadow, releasing the lurking beast always there. And suddenly? Half a woman, a face and neck and one-armed torso- supported by insubstantial forces, breezy and light, attempting to drift free with no regard to the gruesomeness of her appearance. :The blood guard starts to fall back, to the left of the wall, doing their best to rally - "STAND!" goes the cry - "STAND!" :Below, the irregulars fire into the gap through which the remaining Acarits pour, doing their part. :The blood guard does not stem the tide, slowly being pushed back to the ladder - An acarit in front of Sandrim goes to shiver, apparently trying it's own trick of the Shadow... only to be felled by a broad swipe of the Claymore. So too is Graham's - it pauses, inexplicably - only to be stabbed through the back, pinned to the battlements before the Miner retrieves his blade. :Meian is free, to be certain, floating insubstantial as acarits spit goo around and through her to no effect - but the group as a whole is being pushed back to that lonely ladder, leaving behind blood guard glued to the walls and some dead, amongst their number. The acarits make a significant push.. It seems the redhead is in the /zone/, so to speak. Sidestepping the first shot of goo, then the second, both with relative ease, Kallyn's eyes glimmer with a feral sort of pleasure. Her shortsword sings through the air towards another acarit and she echoes the call of the Blood Guard in an unusually strong voice, "STAND! STAND!" Graham tries to dodge this latest acarit like the others but it doesn't work. The little monster anticipates his juke and latches on the miner's left arm, fangs piercing armor and flesh beneath. He yells in pain, stabbing across the chest at the beast, then cries out, "Arg. One of 'em got me!" As a particularly sticky loogie flies at him, Sandrim ducks out of the way, evading becoming the next to be glued to the wall. "Graham!" he calls out. "Get out of here!" He tries to run help the other man, before he is forced to step back and take a swing at an approaching acarit himself. The partial-Meian-spectre drifts towards Graham and then, abruptly? Limbs return, flashed back into being by a momentary focus of will, and the girl swings her kukri down and around at his assailant from behind. "Aye! Retreat!" she barks at the miner, pale face set and grim. :Slowly, slowly, the blood guard are pushed back, and down - a mere handful remaining of the sixty that held this part of the wall - the Acarits nearly twice their number, and pressing forward. But still they fight, their morale shaken, but holding. The irregulars behind do what they can .. :The acarit push, and push - Kallyn claims one more, and between Meian and Graham, they make short work of the one clinging to him. Only three guard hold the top of the ladder now, but the Acarit ignore it, pilling down the wall and into the streets of this part of the Refuge. :Yet, from the west comes a rallying cry - "BLOOD GUARD! FOR THE LADY!" And the sound of running feet - reinforcements, some covered in green, some bleeding - but they come. And they come with fire in their eyes and bows and crossbows at the ready. The acarit on the wall pause - some glowing with eldrich energy, as they rally against this unexpected development.. The redhead tenses as she is overtaken by the crackling electricity of an acarit, but comes out entirely unscathed. She grins, a sadistic chuckle escaping her lips as her own lightning erupts from her left hand, "Two can play at that game!" The chaotic blue-white sparks are directed at the creature that attacked her. "I'll not abandon the wall while you three are still on it," Graham shouts, ducking a poorly aimed gob of spit. The miner glances over in the direction of the cry and exclaims, "Hold a bit longer, we've friends coming." He lunges at the nearest acarit, attempting to run it through. Two acarits leap at Sandrim, but... they miss, flying past, despite the fact that the young man doesn't really look like he's reacted much at all to them. "You're injured," he says, tone worried and a bit angry. "Get off the wall." He turns swiftly, slshing out at the second of the two acarits that attacked. "Hold a little longer? Just a little longer..." repeats Meian, ducking abruptly under more flying loogies. "...distraction time." And, kukri brandished, the girl begins to outright *run* down the wall- in mid-step, daring to close her eyes for that half a second, that momentary time needed to *change*... and once she's got the clearance? Her form simply melts away, deliquescing into pure Shadow for that eyeblink before it reforms into a towering thing, a lumbering violet bear with steely claws and steely teeth. And still she runs, taking advantage of the lack of defenders left to try and literally steamroller acarits off the wall in her wake. "FOR THE REFUGE!" the bear roars, deep voice resonant and eyes a baleful pink. :This wall is rapidly being lost - just under forty acarits are holding the eastern side - barely a dozen blood guard remain, and perhaps twenty irregulars, plus those that fight. The speed of the spider-beasts is telling, and slowly, slowly, they push the remainder off the wall. And heading from the western edges of the palisade, among others, Vhramis steadily approaches to link up with the rest of the defenders, the man seemingly ignoring a dead acarit stubbornly clinging to his shoulder. Lagging behind him are two other pathfinders, though they steadily catch up. Knives are sheathed swiftly, and the longbow slid down his shoulder once again, the ranger drawing a bead on...well...anything with more than four legs. Blackfox sprints in from the west, raising her arbalest, a woman dressed in the uniform of Havensguard on her heels, longbow in hand. Neither of them waste any breath on words, assessing the situation and launching bolt and arrow into the midst of the attacking acarits. Thayndor Zahir runs alongside the Pathfinders, stopping somewhat before they do. "For Darkwater," he yells, "And the Deepers!" He targets the acarit that earlier attempted to electrocute Kallyn, and looses an arrow. Celeste brings up the rear. She's green and sticky, but it doesn't slow her pace. Even the mace is covered with green goo now. :And with them comes more - Another twenty blood guard, and perhaps ten irregulars - the tide, it seems, has begun to swing. And they too draw bow - at least in part, the remainder charging forward to join the fray.. :The tide turns indeed - the sudden ragged arrowstorm takes its toll on the Acarit behind, a handful falling - one of Vhamris's Pathfinders find their mark as well, while Vhamris, Fox, and the Havensguard find themselves aiming well, but the dratted little things just /quick/. Thayndor's shot too, misses - more as the thing hunkers down to endure Kallyn's return lightnings - but Sandrim claims another as it tries to do.. something, only to be bisected. :The massive bear that is Meian barely fits on that palisade wall - but charge she does, crushing one underfoot, but the rest leaping out of her way like hyperactive fleas, offering a screaming hiss that is remarkable in its sudden warning. :But they rally - and strike back, four of them gathering flame, sending balls of arcane and eldritch fire at the reinforcements. Up on the wall, the spiders suddenly concentrate on that bear - it relieves a bit of the pressure, but... the fight continues. Kallyn hefts her blade to redirect another strike of blue-white electricity, barely managing to keep it off of her before she stabs at the little bastard that casted the lightning. Steely eyes shift violently, still full of that competitive and decidedly evil-looking gleam. The redhead definitely enjoys combat a little too much. Graham hears a roar racing at him and catches a glimpse of light from the corner of an eye. The miner instinctively throws himself flat as the flames explode in the space he just left. He rolls to a crouched position, glancing around for an enemy, and swings wildly at the nearest acarit. One might think Sandrim had been through a hundred battles by the way he reacts when the horrendous, monstrous magic spider charges him. Namely, he doesn't, much, and the spider flies by him yet again. And yet again, the sword goes in a swift, sharp arc for his assailant. "If you're not going to get off the wall, stay down, Graham," he says through gritted teeth. That bear's huge and rather swift, but not swift enough- though it avoids some of the acarits' mucus projectiles, a couple still do hit and begin to congeal green against violet fur. An enraged roar bursts forth from the beast's throat and, marshalling its massive size and strength it still bursts forward, huge paws swatting at acarits left and right wherever it can get a smack in. Wolfsbane and company instinctively flatten as the arcane attack soars inwards, before leaping up again to group together, drawing their bows and loosing a volley against the attacking acarits. They pause, then, abruptly turning back the way they came. The three stare for a moment, before a few words are uttered, and they dash back from whence they came. Holding their ground, Blackfox and Serena each take aim at a fireball throwing little spider thing, arbalest and longbow releasing their deadly projectiles through the air. "Stand still!" Thayndor grouses, perhaps to the Wolfsbane he stands next to. Brow furrowing, then relaxing, he arcs another arrow at the magical acarit as Blood Guard, irregulars and Fasthelders pour past him to join the fray. The incoming hail of fireballs isn't enough to make Thayndor Zahir so much as flinch, but Vhramis and the Pathfinders turning catches his attention. "Where are you going?" He calls after them, drawing another arrow. Celeste tightens her grip on the mace. The retreat of the rangers doesn't even draw a blink as the Mikin seems intent on the large Bear. She raises the mace and takes aim at one of the acarits. :The irregulars take the worst of those fireballs - nearly a quarter of the remaining brave hunters and rangers burning as the flame washes an roars around them - the rest retreat, but hold, if not firmly. The blood guard presses forward, regardless - "FOR THE LADY!" It rallies them. Steadies them. Starts to push back the acarit they now outnummber.. :The Pathfinders may not find their mark, this time - but Fox, the Havensguard, and Thayndor do - Thayndor actually stealing that lightning-blasting acarit even before Kallyn manages to swing, thieving her revenge, it seems. Celeste even manages to crush one herself, as she charges in to the front lines, as does the massive bear, that is Meian, roaring and covered in green. :The blood guard begin to fell their share, in fact. :But it seems there's at least one last trick up their sleeves - the Acarit do their best to hold the line as the last two fireball wielders try once more. :More telling, even as others try to glue the bear down still - one of the acarits shivers and, engulfed in shadow, grows to match that bear - as a bear of its own, in spindly and gaunt black, with glowing blue eyes, roaring a challenge and charging forward, a towering colossus in its own right. Kallyn's luck in dodging /everything/ thrown at her throughout this battle finally runs out. Two huge globs of sticky green acarit snot paste the redhead in place, eliciting a growl of annoyance. She doesn't even try to pull out of the mass, merely closing her eyes with a sigh and then vanishing entirely as if blown away by a breeze. Invisible and insubstantial, the redhead steps out of the mass and then calls down to Thayndor, "You stole my kill, asshole!" The miner begins to turn, looking for his next opponent, but fails to notice the giant gob of green stuff hurtling towards him. The blob hits Graham's legs and right arm, holding them fast to the wall. He tugs at the junk but with no luck and says, "Blasted shadow monsters. Get this goo off of me before something takes another bite!" "Focus, Kallyn!" Sandrim calls out, sidestepping the goo easily. "Focus on what matters." He notices Graham getting plastered out of the corner of his eye and curses, making his way to stand over the man, slashing at an acarit he passes along the way. The great violet bear, even as spattered by goo as she is? She roars and bats away the black bear's paw. The moment of distraction, though, hits her with yet another glorp of the mucus. Before it hardens she ducks under the next with surprising grace... only to find herself plastered to the ramparts. Another terrible, harsh roar, and the bear- flicks entirely out of existence, gone as surely as if she was never there, to the naked eye. The departing rangers? Well, they hear that roar of yet another incoming fireball. Having learned their lesson well the cost of being too slow, they again throw themselves heavily to the side, covering their heads, and through the grace of the Light come out unscathed. Looking up, they scramble to their feat. "The syladris. He's not here," Vhramis calls back to Thayndor, breath heavy. "We need to find him...and perhaps check the spire." They continue to dash off, eager to avoid any more fireballs. Tears sting Blackfox's eyes from the smoke of the burning bodies, her belly turning at the smell as she shudders at the sounds of their screams. But still, she does her duty by the Refuge, holding her position and raising her weapon, her and Serena firing another volley into the acarits. "If you see Otto Stonefish, tell him where I am!" Thayndor calls after Vhramis, returning his focus to the magespiders who hurled fireballs after the rangers. Perhaps covering their retreat, he looses an arrow in reply. "This is isn't a competition," he mutters to himself, shouldering the bow and drawing his shield from his back instead. He draws his sabre and advances through the smoke-filled moonlight towards Graham, apparently intent on joining Sandrim to form a new front of the battle. The moonbeams reflected in his stormy eyes glimmer murderously. Celeste tries to wheel about as one of the acarits leap at her. A soft yelp elicits it from her lips and the mace swings to try and dislodge to the creature as lands on the breast. :And still the blood guard forges ahead as acarit resistance crumbles - the irregulars, however, start to fall back, looking for range to help... :The spindly, massive bear leaps down from the wall - a short jump for a monster that has the top of it reaching mid-chest - and it barrels, charging, roaring, snarling, into the blood-guard line. To their credit, they falter only so far, doing their best to stand against it. More acarit fall, though - one to fox, though most of the heroes here are less than successful; the one on Celeste maneuvers out of the way of that mace and many shots go wild. :The remaining acarit, though - save those locked in melee - begin to retreat, running for the wall - decimated as a whole. :All those who have been bitten by leapers will begin to feel.. woozy. It becomes harder to focus (all magic skills are at -1), and your arms will start to grow heavy (-1 to attacks and dodges). Something was in those bites.... :From the west, crusty and green, comes a certain large wolf, Velvel, making good time, if stiffly, for Fox. "I know, I know," Kallyn calls to Sandrim, her invisible form making towards Graham. Most of the acarits retreating, the redhead ignores them and rematerializes with sword in hand to examine the goo that binds the miner, "Light, how am I supposed to get this stuff off of you...?" Graham tugs at the goo with all of his strength, fingers trying to find purchase in the green material, but it won't budge. The miner looks up at Kallyn and asks, "Can you help me lass?" as everything begins to feel a little off. "Chop him out," Sandrim says, swaying to one side to evade another ball of goo. "I'll hold them off while you do, alright? So take care of it quickly." The goo-spitting acarit gets a downward cleave, from his claymore. The violet bear reforms somewhat outside of her gooey prison, but unfortunately? A good deal of that goo is clinging to fur, hanging in great chunks that visibly impede the beast's motion. Still? With a mighty challenging roar, she leaps down from the wall, attempting to pounce upon the spindlier bear like clumsy vengeance from above. Still choking down bile, Blackfox is heartened by the return of her lupine companion, standing by her side as the arbalest is loaded and fired again. This time she takes careful aim for the head of the giant bear. Off to one side, Serena draws another arrow and nocks it, firing off a shot at a stray acarit. Thayndor Zahir dodges the goop, stepping forward to thrust his blade at the spider-thing that launched it. "We'd best prepare," he cries. "These things are doubtless not the only weapons sent against us." Celeste continues to wrestle with the acarit that seems to have lodged itself to her armor. Her eyes lose focus, and it is with effort she tries to swing at the beast. :One more blood guard falls, felled by acarit spit across the face, suffocating as he's glued to the ground... but slowly, they begin the process of wiping out those that assail them. Even the bear accounts for no casualties, as shield and blade turn claws.. :The last few acarit fall, the ones holding back the rest - Sandrim and Thayndor account for theirs, and Fox's arrow takes the Bear-thing mid stride as it is distracted by the druid-bear's charge. But Celeste is savaged by the rabid acarit that goes for chinks in her armor, the Scourge frantically trying to get the thing /off/. Immediately setting to work trying to pry the goo from Graham, Kallyn's eyes go to his momentarily and her brows knit. "You still with me, Graham?" she asks, wedging her shortsword into the green mass and being careful not to harm the man trapped within. The bearded man slowly at his face with his left hand and smiles stupidly, pupils huge in the light. "Of course I'm with you Kallyn," Graham says cheerfully, "We're guarding the wall." He looks around nodding to Celeste before glancing back at the young mage helping him. "I didn't realize you could glow. It's nice but could you stop? Everything is already so bright." Sandrim blinks as everything goes quiet, then looks around. "I... think we did it," he says, before noticing Celeste and grimacing, but the task of saving her goes to some closer, and the young man sheathes his sword before kneeling down to try and help Kallyn, somehow. Meian rolls her Wildform with a -1 modifier. The result of the roll is Fair (0). Now that the bear's on the ground? With an angry snarl, she lunges towards Celeste, one great paw sweeping out- not to harm the scourge, but clawing and scratching at the attached acarit. She continues to move clumsily, weighed down by all the goop as she still is. Seeing the acarits routed, Blackfox leaps upon Velvels' back, pulling Serena up behind her, "We should see if the rest of the refuge is secure!" she calls out, wheeling the great wolf about as she tries to get a sense for the battle elsewhere. Thayndor Zahir removes shield and puts away sword, resting in stillness for a long moment -- stillness, that is, except for the steady rising and falling of his shoulders as he catches his breath. The smoke has not yet settled. Thayndor Zahir takes a few steps to watch Meian-bear dispense with the last assailant along the wall, and when he does, his bootsteps are accentuated by the disgusting squelch of ichor, acarit-bodies, crunching chitin and human blood. With the only sounds of battle coming from the roaring bear, the battlements are relatively quiet. It is only now that Thayndor can stop and listen to the cries of the wounded, the utter lack of clanging steel and voices raised in urgency. But he does not find peace in that sound, or absence of sound. "Something is wrong," Thayndor says, turning to follow Blackfox. "The night is not yet over." Lord of Darkwater, seeker of redemption, bald head gleaming in the moonlight but otherwise uninjured, stalks off in search of another battlefield. Celeste's eyes go wide at the onslaught of the bear. She gives another futile attempt at trying to dislodge the acarit. The bloody creature seems to have fastened itself to her armor. :Well - that last little rabid spider apparently is being troublesome. It does /not/ let go - instead, skittering around the scourge to avoid mace and bear alike... and getting another dig in. Freeing Graham, Kallyn's attention is diverted to all of the commotion centered around Celeste. She leaves Graham in Sandrim's care with a quick, "Something's wrong, keep an eye on him," and then slides down the nearest ladder to help assist the noblewoman. "Hold still, Celeste," she says firmly, before attempting to flick the little creature off with her shortsword. Graham squints at Kallyn, left hand raised as if to shield his eyes, and notices, seemingly for the first time, the blood on his arm. "Thought I took a bath," he mumbles, raising an eyebrow in confusion. The miner looks down at all the commotion and states, "Looks like that woman's shriekweasel isn't behaving, good thing her husband's trying to help." "Alright, Graham, easy does it," Sandrim says, starting to try and help the man down onto the ground. "Let's get you to the Spire, alright? The healers are there." Slowly, if Graham isn't too unhelpful, he heads down the ladder with the man. The bear lumbers back as Kallyn approaches, letting out a growl of frustration. It begins a rough-edged, animalistic sound, and halfway through? It abruptly switches to a high-pitched woman's snarl, as swift as the transition from massive crusty animal to tiny crusty woman in a flourish of Shadow. "Get OFF!" she tells the acarit, kukri in hand flashing out to slash at it. "Not at the wall," Thayndor says to Blackfox, stopping next to the woman and her wolf. "If she was here, we would have known." He looks back, and up at the spire. "I have two men remaining here who are unaccounted for, and I must find them." Celeste continues to try and strike at the acarit. A shake of her head, as she seems to stubborn away. Eyes, glowing with the strange illumination, flicker in and out of focus. :Finally! Kallyn flicks it away - Meian stabs the darned thing - and it twitches, snarls, and lies still. :Hallelujah! :To the south, at the spire - the faint sounds of conflict can still be heard, the shouts of men at war. A sigh of relief comes from the redhead as they finally kill the stubborn little bug. The feeling does not last, however, as Kallyn looks to the south at the sounds, "The Spire! There is fighting at the Spire!" Either she feels there are enough others to tend to the injured or she's caught up in the moment. Whatever it is, the young mage girl takes off towards the Spire without looking back. Atop Velvel, Blackfox has already heard the sounds of battle from the south, Velvel growling low in her throat as she turns in that direction. Graham makes it down the ladder easy enough, with help from Sandrim. He looks at the dagger in his right hand, eyes more focused than a moment ago, and says, "Oh right, we're fighting." The miner looks around, shrugs, then turns to Sandrim, "Looks like we won. Is that why my arm hurts?" Sandrim frowns, then starts heading south. "Seems like it," he says. "But, there's still some left. Light, the spire. Let's get going." Thayndor Zahir picks up his own pace to keep up with the wolf, wordlessly unslinging his bow -- unhurt and unencumbered, but sweaty, singed, and bald. Meian nods her agreement, sighing in relief as the acarit falls away. She doesn't run off *just* yet, however, waiting to see if Celeste needs an arm in support before she too heads south. Celeste rubs at her forehead. Though there's little reprieve as she begins to stumble towards the spire. Her grip tightens and it hurrying at a limp after the others. ---- Continues in Waiting Is The Hardest Part ---- Return to Season 7 (2008) Category:Logs